


A Different Line, A New Story

by GrimMoire



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Grab your permission slips because we're going on a feels trip, Prepare yourselves for a rollercoaster of emotion, Sadness, joy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:30:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimMoire/pseuds/GrimMoire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven fell into the earth, one fell to the ground. The powers that be dictate a change in how things go in one story, and draw upon a stranger's aid to bring about the change they so desire. With the help of an eighth person, the work will change. Many things will be different, and a few things will stay the same.</p>
<p>But eight will stand where otherwise seven would be. As it has been decreed, so it shall be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Beginning...

**Author's Note:**

> This, everyone, will be the first multiple chapter fanfic I WILL complete. I will make this as quality as I can, but I don't know if anyone will like it.
> 
> This is gonna be long, as there are a LOT of things I'm gonna do with it.

**November**

Hidden within the woods of the Pacific Northwest stands a lone mountain, long ostracized even by the natives. It's known as Mt. Ebott, and any who climb it are said to never return. The woods surrounding it are teeming with life untouched by man, as none have tried to settle in the mountain's shadow. One lone section of the forest, near Mt. Ebott's base, is choked off by thick blankets of spider webbing. From above, this patch looks to be an eternal mark placed by Old Man Winter. Always from this webbed section flows hot air, melting the snow in the winter and smelling faintly of baked goods and sulfur.

A slightly overgrown path winds its way through the forest and up the side of the mountain, the thick tree branches overhead forming a natural and well-lit tunnel from one end to the other. Many a small clearing sits within easy walking distance of the path, with the clearings shrinking in number the farther up the mountain one goes. About half-way up one will notice an ancient stone arch, inscribed with semi-legible runes of an archaic, and perhaps arcane, nature. The clearings stop here, as none dare go past the arch. If there was such a person as to be brave enough to pass through the stone arch, they would find the path continues all the way to a small plateau on the mountain top and a carved stone entryway, decorated with those same runes found on the arch below. And, a little ways past the arch, is a small and barely used footpath, that leads to a natural cave.

Many a rowdy teenager has tried to go past the arch, and not a single one of them ever succeeded. The legends stop them every time.

But these same legends encourage a lone child, racing up the trail at midnight and blinded by their tears. Unable to see, they take the footpath by accident...

They fall.

 

**August**

For the first time in no one knows how long... Something comes down from Mt. Ebott. And in its arms is the child that disappeared in November, their lifeless body limp in its grasp. The townsfolk were silent, watching this creature carefully as it placed the body down upon a bed of golden flowers. A young girl pushes past the sea of legs surrounding her and swings her toy knife from her Halloween costume at the creature, and it swats her aside as casually as you would a fly. One of the adults catches her, and the rest converge on the creature, ready to shed whatever it called blood.

It didn't fight back. No matter how many blows were laid upon it, it refused to fight back. It gathered the body it had set down and limped its way up the mountain, the mob tailing it. Bullets flew past its head and through its body, blades of varying sizes and lengths were stuck in its form, and stones connected with its spine and skull as it fled, but still it did not fight. It passed under the arch and was not followed. It died in the mountain, calling for someone, anyone to help. And, though no one came, it's cries were not unheard.

The little girl recovered quickly, and was furious. In her anger, she schemed and waited. She was patient, and when the opportunity arose she disappeared into the night, taking her ribbon and toy knife with her. Her curiosity overcame her anger after passing under the arch, and she took the tiny footpath.

She fell and did not get up again.

 

**January**

"Stupid, stuck-up, disgusting step mom! Graaagh!" Her fist connected with the punching bag in her room, splitting its seams and letting the dust within trickle out. She _hated_ the woman her dad had married. She was always sticking her nose into her step-daughter's life, trying to mold her into a "perfect lady" and get her out of this mindset of a "mindless ruffian." So what did it matter to this stuck-up, fake as hell Barbie Doll that her new daughter was the top boxer in her entire club? What did it matter that she was so close to getting her black belt in her karate classes? It mattered not at all, apparently. All this walking exhibit of plastic surgery wanted was a clone of herself, nothing more and nothing less. And, understandably, she was upset with this. Because of this walking, talking mannequin, her karate classes were stopped and she had to give up her chance at the title in her boxing club and leave. But worst of all, the absolute most disgusting thing that this plastic woman had done was insult her new friend after the girl stood up for them.

This kid, just sitting in the cafeteria and minding their own business, was being harassed by a bunch of punks. She wasn't gonna stand for this, least of all when they took the kid's notebook and started tearing it up. So, she did what any sensible, level-headed preteen with a growing sense of right and wrong would do. She jumped out of her seat and proceeded to kick some butts.

As she sat outside the principal's office, she saw that her step mom's car had pulled up. The witch didn't even give her a chance to explain what had happened before taking her home for the day and telling some sob story to her dad about how you were the worst child in existence and yap yap blah blah drivel drivel drivel. She hated how easily her dad kowtowed to this beast, not crying when he took everything but her punching bag out of her room.

Fighters like her don't cry. But it still hurt how easily her father ignored her point of view. He didn't do that until _she_ came along.

She looked out her window and could barely see Mt. Ebott through the snowstorm. Without even thinking, she hastily scribbled an apology to her dad, calling out her step mom as best as she could, and faded into the storm.

She died with bones sticking out of her and snow clinging to her eye lashes.

 

**April**

He hated going to this school. Everyone thought him a sissy because his mom insisted he take ballet. Most of the time, he was able to dance away from his bullies, running as fast as his legs could carry him to safety.

Today was not one of those days. They caught him in the middle of class and beat him. He laid there on the floor, his blood dripping onto his schoolwork. Dimly, he heard the bell ring for the class change.

No one helped him up.

He skipped ballet class that afternoon. He was so sick of this. Everyone hated him, his parents were never there for him...

He limped down the footpath, as the main path was blocked off by vines.

He died with echoes in his ears, fake stars in his eyes, and a thin layer of dust on his skin.

 

**October**

_Dear Mom and Dad..._

_I'm sorry. I just can't take the bullying anymore. The only person who saw me as a human being and not some kind of freak climbed the mountain in the January snowstorm. Everyone at school thinks she did it because she was ashamed of being my friend. I want to believe it's not true. No one respects me for who I am..._

_Not even you._

_By the time you read this, I'll already be up Mt. Ebott._

_Maybe I'll see my friend again._

_..._

_Goodbye._

Their parents were horrified to find this tear-stained letter waiting for them when they got home.

*****

With tears in their eyes and despair in their heart, they handed their glasses and torn notebook to the ancient veteran. The sound of the water falling into the abyss soothed them. With their back to the abyss and a smile on their face, they spread their arms and flew into that bottomless dark, the last thing they see through their tears is the veteran reaching for them.

The old turtle cries himself to sleep, clutching the glasses and torn notebook.

 

**June**

He had moved to the quiet little town just a month ago. The quiet, small town atmosphere made him feel content and he felt that he could cook just about anything here. Despite the fact that he had heard the rumors of disappearances, he didn't really pay any attention to them. After a little while, he found a path through the woods. He followed it, and was disappointed to see the main path covered with vines at a certain point. He was not seen again.

In the sweltering heat, he collapsed from the temperature and his wounds, his apron gaining a couple stains from his blood and tears.

 

**February**

She ran through the woods, chasing after the bandits fleeing the long arm of the law. Those rascals weren't gonna get away with their crimes! She absentmindedly readjusted the too-large Stetson her dad gave her and ran onwards. SHE'S the Sheriff of these here woods, y'hear?! Soon, she came across a cave with a small footpath leading from it. She hefted her great-grandma's old revolver and ran in, ready to bring those rowdy troublemakers to justice!

But sometimes...

Even the Sheriff suffers injustice, and there's nothing that can be done about it.


	2. How to End a Bad Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a cold November night, an abandoned child walks the path up Mt. Ebott.  
> On a cold November night, a young man is accidentally killed.
> 
> As it was stated, so it shall be.

**November**

Hidden within the woods of the Pacific Northwest stands a lone mountain, long ostracized even by the locals. It's known as Mt. Ebott, and any who climb it are said to never return. The woods surrounding it are teeming with life untouched by man, as none have tried to settle in the mountain's shadow. One lone section of the forest, near Mt. Ebott's base, is choked off by thick blankets of spider webbing. From above, this patch looks to be an eternal mark placed by Old Man Winter. Always from this webbed section flows hot air, melting the snow in the winter and smelling faintly of baked goods and sulfur.

A completely overgrown path winds its way through the forest and up the side of the mountain, the thick tree branches overhead forming a natural and well-lit tunnel from one end to the other. Many a small clearing sits within easy walking distance of the path, with the clearings shrinking in number the farther up the mountain one goes. About half-way up one will notice an ancient stone arch, inscribed with semi-legible runes of an archaic, and perhaps arcane, nature. The clearings stop here, as none dare go past the arch. If there was such a person as to be brave enough to pass through the stone arch, they would find the path continues all the way to a small plateau on the mountain top and a carved stone entryway, decorated with those same runes found on the arch below. And, a little ways past the arch, is a small and barely used footpath, that leads to a natural cave.

Many a rowdy teenager has tried to go past the arch, and not a single one of them ever succeeded. The legends stop them every time. But the legends had failed on seven occasions, the stories of disappearances attracting those who had lost all hope for a better future, or who didn't know of the legends to begin with.

 

\-----

 

In the dark of the night, he stands on the street corner waiting for the light to change. The cold winds bite through his clothes and sink into his bones. He shivers and adjusts his grip on the bag that holds everything he has, then crosses the street.

A lone shot rings out, and he crumples to the asphalt as the snow begins to fall.

 

\-----

 

Momma tried, she really did. The house they lived in wasn't much, she'd say, but it was home. But momma was at her wits' end. There was only so much she could do, and she made the only choice she thought she had.

The kid walks the path alone, their sweater the only thing keeping the cold at bay. In the moonless dark, they find a cave...

And they fall.

 

\-----

 

He was being pulled somewhere, an unknown place called to him from across eternity. He had so many questions, and they were answered. But most important were his last three questions.

 

_Will I be alone?_ **N E V E R  A G A I N**

_Will I be hungry?_ **N E V E R  A G A I N** _  
_

_Will I be happy?_ **A L W A Y S**

_Then I am content with what lies ahead._

 

\-----

 

In the Abyss, IT woke up. Someone had called it, and it answered. It took control, not caring about the sleeper until it was too late to do anything to stop them.

 

*****

 

"what, did you think i was just gonna stand there and take it?" A shock of pain lit up your mind like the Fourth of July, bringing you to consciousness in an instant. Then, a voice that oozed malice slipped through your lips like cold grease.

 

"Your brother certainly did. Unlike you, he was... _a head_ of the curve." Bone speared through your frame, and all that came from your throat was cruel laughter.

 

Then, Nothing. Yes, Nothing with a capital N. An eternity of Nothing in an infinitely small moment of time. You were bound in chains of razor wire and knives, never bleeding from the endless cuts that covered your flesh. Facing you were two children, one bound as you were and crying soundlessly, and the other...

 

"Good to see you could finally join us. You missed so very much in your sleep. Here, let me show you." You tried to flinch away, but the chains held you tight and that _thing_ laid its hand on your face. With the contact, your mind was snapped into recollection of things that it had done. Words echoed in your ears and terrible sights flashed before your eyes. This thing in a child's form had toyed with every single monster they'd encountered, making them believe the child friendly and then stabbing them in the back. You were snapped back to the Nothing as its cruel laughter filled your ears. Two burning trails went from your eyes and down your face, and it wiped one away, licking up what it had collected.

 

"Your tears are delicious, human. Don't worry... **It'll all be over soon**." Reality formed itself from the Nothing and you beheld a hallway, lit with the afternoon sun. It's attention was fully dedicated to the fight with a short skeleton, and you decided to ACT. Knowing that this demon had to be stopped before it fulfilled it's desire filled you with determination. Carefully, almost languidly, you stood and the chains slid through you as if you were not there. You stepped forth and grabbed the creature by its neck, taking control. You felt the weight of the knife in your hand, the sins of another crawling on your back.

 

And the SOUL changed from blue to green.

 

"You! Skeleton! Now's your chance! End this cursed thing once and for all!"

 

**YOU FOOL, WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YO-**

 

He struck, the white hot beam tearing through your frame and incinerating you, sending you back to the Nothing. Tossing the beast aside, you raced over to the kid and pulled them free of their torment. You felt the demon's gaze on your back, hatred pouring from it like a viscous slime. It wanted to torture you, _shred_ you, _mutilate,_ ** _devour, K I L_ _L_** you. As it lunged, the small child in your arms reached out...

 

And R E S E T.


	3. Hearth and Home

Once again, the Nothing surrounds you. The oppressive air of malevolence was gone, and it was just you and the child. They laid on what could be called the floor, shivering slightly and gasping for air. You knelt beside them and saw tears rolling down their face, no doubt recalling everything that happened before. You sat cross-legged and gently shook them to get their attention.

"Go away, please." God, they sounded so _broken_.

"Kid, come here. I ain't gonna hurt you." You keep shaking them and repeating yourself until they finally crawl onto your lap, clutching to your shirt and crying their heart out. Your arms are more than enough to wrap around them entirely, and you rest your chin on their head and gently rub their back.

"Shh, kid. It's gonna be okay. The nightmare's over, and the bad guy can't get you no more. It's _okay_. You're safe with me."

The two of you sat like that for an eternity, it seemed. Eventually, though, all the tears that could be shed right then were. The kid pulled back from you and smiled, their nose runny and eyes puffed all to hell and back.

"Hold still, kid, you've got a thing on your face." You shake out your hoodie sleeve and cup their nose with it, and they blow into it. You laugh a little at how it sounds like they're playing a trumpet and then wipe up the rest as best you can, smearing it all over... whatever it is you're sitting on.

"Hey Mister... What's your name?"

"Well, kid... Tell you what. You can call me Warden."

"That's not a name!"

"Why, it most certainly is! My great-great-granddaddy was named Warden!" You gently press a finger to the kid's nose, smiling as they scrunch their face at it. "Besides, as long as I'm here, I'll be... _Warden_ away anything that wants to hurt you." They groan at the pun, but you know they enjoyed it. "Now, kid... What do you want me to call you?"

"You can call me Frisk!"

"Frisk, huh? Well, alrighty then Frisk. Nice to meet you." You hold a hand up and they have to use both of theirs to shake it, and it is adorable. You lift them off of your lap and stand, holding out a hand for them to take. They hesitated only for a second before grabbing two of your fingers in their small hand.

"Don't worry, Frisk. Everything's gonna turn out wonderful, just you wait and see."

"You promise?"

"I promise." The look of hope on Frisk's face fills you with determination. There's no way you're letting this kid down, come Hell or high water. The two of you began to walk, uncertain of the future, but willing to brave whatever came your way.

The endless black shifted color in increments, until it became pure, blinding white. And then...

*****

Your everything ached as you slowly sat up. The light, while soft, pierced through your eyes and slammed right into your brain. Groaning from the headache, you leaned back on one hand only to pull it back when you felt something odd. Looking down around you revealed that you had awoken on a bed of flowers...

And that you were wearing a blue and purple striped sweater and were inexplicably shorter than you remembered. And just one other thing, nothing to get upset over...

_You were alone._

"Oh god, where... did... huh?" Your voice had changed, too. It sounded way too high and thin, almost like... like...

"Did... Did Frisk and I... swap, or something?"

_I don't think so, Warden... I think we're... sharing my body?_

_That's not weird at all, Frisk._ This was gonna take some getting used to...

As you walked around the room to better acclimate yourself to the sudden height change of about two and a half feet downward, you couldn't help but notice that the walls weren't natural stone. They'd been smoothed down, carved even. What little light there was just wasn't enough to see what was carved into the stone. The whole room had a feeling of being old, yet... still lived in. Like someone came here every day, or something. Thoughts for later. For now, though, you began to wonder just what was down this little hallway and through the door at the end.

_I don't wanna go through there, Warden._

_Something bugging you, Frisk?_

_Flowey's on the other side. He's... He's not nice._

_Well then... Guess we'll have to make like a rose with a Ferrari... And put the **petal** to the metal._

Frisk giggles at that, and you move forward into the room. You can't tell how big it really is, as there's just barely enough light to see by. Across the room is the faint outline of a door frame, and in the middle is a tiny patch of grass illuminated by a thin beam of sunlight. And sitting in the light is a tiny flower...

It has a face. It has expressions, and right now you can see it's upset. You go to stand in front of it and it glares at you.

"What the hell happened? You were so close to ending everything! And you just tossed it aside!" You reach forward and dig your fingers into the earth around the base of his stem and gently begin to _pull._ "Wait, what are you doing? Stop that!" Flowey summons up some pellets and tries to hit your hand, but you pull it away and they connect with the ground, and then you go right back to gently uprooting him. Within seconds, he's free of the earth and you're holding him in the air.

" _I'll kill you._ " You squeeze his roots as hard as you can, which earns a gasp from both him and Frisk.

"Listen here, pipsqueak. The person who slaughtered everyone isn't here anymore, and if I _ever_ catch you threatening anyone ever again, I will _destroy_ you." You place him back on the ground and watch him root himself. "Now... _get out of my sight._ " And he does, disappearing into the ground in about two and a half seconds.

_You didn't have to be so mean to him, Warden._

_He was gonna make you cry, Frisk. Honestly, neither of us need a reminder of what happened._

_...True, but... but still..._

_Look... I'm sorry. If he behaves nicely, I'll treat him nicely, okay?_

Frisk nods your head and you start to head to the door across from you when you hear something approaching. It's steps are soft, padded maybe, and heavy. Within seconds a large and furry figure steps into the light. She's no less than twice your height, and she carries this cloud of kindness with her. You feel safer, knowing she's here. Just as she's about to say something, she steps forward quickly and crouches down, concern on her face. The feeling of tears rolling down your cheeks surprises you.

"Child, are you alright? You are not injured, I hope." Frisk takes control and hugs her as tightly as their arms can hug, crying into the strange woman's robe. It felt like hugging a cloud, freshly pulled out of the dryer. It takes a few minutes, but soon the tears stop, and she holds you at arms length.

"Now what was that all about? I do hope you haven't been hurt too badly. Are you alright, my child?"

"No. But I'm getting better. Really needed to get that out of my system... I'm sorry I stained your robe." Neither you nor Frisk are certain who said that, but it doesn't really matter. It's one hundred percent accurate and correct.

"It is of no problem to me, child. Would you like to lay down for a bit, rest for a while?" You nod, wiping away the remains of the tears on your face. She nods and gently takes your hand and stands, turning to the door she came from. "Follow me, child. I will guide you through here."

As you walk along with her, you can't help but notice the nervous glances she casts at you over her shoulder. You smile at her, she smiles back, and _what is this warmth in my heart?_ This can't be real... can it?

Soon, your steps begin to falter and she stops long enough to pick you up and carry you to her home. The last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep is calling her "Mom" as she tucks you into bed.


End file.
